


Some days we lay in bed and don’t move for hours.

by darylisafag



Series: At night we pretend that everything’s ok. [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Character Study, Character tags to be added eventually, Depression, Explicit Language, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intrusive Thoughts, Other, POV Multiple, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Tags to be added as needed, Trigger Warnings, author wants to pretend like his problems are actually not his and just inspiration, no beta we die like men, not all sad, reflecion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-18 01:49:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17572004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darylisafag/pseuds/darylisafag
Summary: The sheets suddenly felt heavy and his skin was slick with sweat. One of these nights maybe he’d sleep all the way through and wake up feeling refreshed, tonight - today from the looks of the bright red numbers reading 4:30 am, it was not meant to be.





	1. Chapter 1

The ceiling above him was white, a small water mark had started to grow in the spot to the right of his vision, it’s browning spoke of weeks of festering and who knew how bad it looked on the other side of the drywall.

 

A sigh escaped him and transformed into a low and drawn out yawn. He raised his right arm and laid it across his eyes, and he counted down from sixteen in the quiet, never ending quiet, of the night.

 

The sheets suddenly felt heavy and his skin was slick with sweat. One of these nights maybe he’d sleep all the way through and wake up feeling refreshed, tonight (today from the looks of the bright red numbers reading 4:30 am) it wasn’t meant to be.

 

He turned his head back and stared up once more at the browning stain. He tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, to no avail. He stretched out his toes, curled them against the blanket, heard the scratching rather than felt it. His body almost felt numb, too hot and too foreign to account for anything.

 

The inside of his cheek found purchase between his teeth as he bit lightly. He contemplated for all of three heart beats before a frown rose and he pushed the blanket up and off of himself, then pushed his legs over the side of the bed. He paused at the cool touch of the wood flooring under his feet and watched as goosebumps broke out across the skin of his arms and legs.

 

“In through your nose, hold, and out through your mouth, and hold.” A voice that sounded suspiciously like his bro-

 

His breath hitched on the exhale, stuttered for all of a second before it continued and he paused as he held on for far longer than necessary. Maybe he could hold his breath forever and never have to worry about it ever again.

 

Unlikely.

 

He inhaled deeply and stood, forced his thoughts to quiet and crossed the few steps needed to reach his door before he closed his eyes. He turned the knob and stepped out.

 

Two steps forward, three to the right and one more step forward before eight steps downstairs led him to the first floor. He paused as his left hand slid against the doorframe he knew was there, he continued six steps through and into the next room.

 

He opened his eyes and turned to his right before he reached into a cupboard just above his shoulder with his right hand. He marveled at the differences, as he pulled out a container of coffee and then a filter, once upon a time he would’ve taken three more steps to the left and reached for the footstool hidden beneath the sink.

 

A huff of a laugh escaped him as he moved and headed for the coffee maker situated on the far side of the kitchen.

 

An island was connected to the kitchen counter forming a L-shap, laid between a small dining space that led further toward a garden separated only by a sliding paper door.

 

He allowed his mind to fully invest in the simple task at hand, and tried not to let his thoughts wander. He stepped back and filled the pot with cold water which he in turn poured into the empty coffee reservoir. He placed the pot back and flicked the switch on.

 

A hiss and a sound like a wet cough filled the air as he once again closed his eyes and stepped once to the left, nine steps forward, opened a door and stepped into the large bathroom next the the kitchens pantry. He left the door open, and went to relieve himself. Finished he headed to the other side and reached forward to turn on the hot water of the shower.

 

He pulled his arms out of his shirt and pulled it up and off, shimmied out of his pants and stepped into the steaming water.

 

“Ahh.” He moaned quietly as the water hit his skin.

 

Though it burned he didn’t bother to reach for the knobs and just allowed his body to adjust to the scalding heat as he rest his forehead against the cool tile opposite the shower head.

 

Water beat down at the tension of his shoulders and down his back, as he stayed motionless.

 

He felt the ghost like touch of barely there nails as they scraped across his shoulders and down over his pecs and further down over his stomach and abdominal muscles, which twitched as if the touch were real and not yet another memory that plague him in the darkness of the early morning.

 

He realized belated that he hadn’t turned on a single light since he ventured out of his room.

 

His shoulders shrugged, as if to answer the thought, as he pivoted on his heel, reached for the shower head aimed it down and sat on the floor of the shower. His black hair slide with the water to collect around his face and over his shoulders.

 

As he sat there, his head on his arms, felt the scalding wet run over his closed eyes and barely open lips, he wondered if this was just who he was now, and if he would ever change.

 

The coffee marker sputtered the last of it’s brew loudly from the kitchen, just barely heard over the shower, as quiet sobs broke out in the still and darkened house.


	2. Coffee and sunlight don’t always go hand and hand.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You deserve it.”

Cold water rained down for no longer than two minutes before he forced himself to stand up and shut it off. He stood, hand on the knob, water dripped from his longer than ever hair, and just existed. 

 

Drip, drip, drips filled the air, splashed lightly on his big toes and the drain between them as water collected and coiled through the grate. 

 

He could smell the coffee as it wafted in from the kitchen, if he didn’t towel off and get to it soon it would start to burn, but still he remained - a statue in the morning light as it rose through the window above the toilet. 

 

In, he could feel his chest rise slowly. Hold, the hard steady thrum of his heart beneath his ribs. One, three, six, nine, twel- and out. His warm breath blew across his wet lips, which quivered on the slightly unsteady exhale. Hold, one, three, six, nine, twelve, fifteen, eighteen, twenty- 

 

His knee slammed into the floor of the shower, painful and loud and clear. His sight swam, black blurs crept over his vision, and a strange scent rose up to meet with the coffee that lingered in the air. 

 

Some part of him was aware of a body near him, shadowed unnaturally, even as it reached out to him. The arms pulled him into a stand and out through the showers entrance. A towel was placed on his head and another wrapped securely around him. 

 

He couldn’t bring himself to feel anything at his state of undress. He couldn’t even bother to step away or resist the other as hands rubbed slow circles in his hair and over his ears, then the longer strands on his shoulders.

 

“Odd…”

 

He was unsure if he spoke the words out loud as he couldn’t feel his mouth move, couldn’t feel the words that formed on barely there breath, couldn’t hear them since his ears felt off and rung loudly in his head. 

 

The shadow didn’t respond, didn’t pause it’s movements as it rubbed the towel over the top of his head again, to indicate if he had spoken at all. He swallowed hard around the knot that formed in his throat. 

 

“I can’t remember the last time someone touched me.” 

 

He waited for the lack of reaction, felt as the hands continued without hesitation, felt the towel as it covered his forehead and eyes, felt as thumbs brushed water from his cheeks and the three day old stubble on his chin.

 

“You deserve it.”

 

The others softly spoken words echoed in the stillness of the room, wrapped him up securely like the towel pulled taunt around him, as it floated by and brought with it his awareness: to his feet on the wet tiled floor, to the loosened slouch of his shoulders and the loose fists stuffed into his armpits, to the surprised look that had crossed his face. 

 

“It’s okay to accept it.” 

 

Nothing else was said when hands extracted the towel from his head and the shadow stepped back and vanished. 

 

Softly, he stepped out of the bathroom, into the kitchen and toward the island. He turned the coffee maker off and reached his right hand over to the dried dish mat and grabbed a cup. He filled a smooth white coffee mug, and he made his way back upstairs. 


	3. Candle lights flicker in the breeze.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kui means devour(er) in Japanese.

 

“I’m destined to be this way...”

 

Smoke rose from his mouth while the cigarette clung haphazardly between his fingers, looking like it might fall at any moment.

 

The evening breeze was soft and cool on his too hot skin and the wooden engawa was firm against his back, smooth and polished, almost slippery beneath his feet. He turned his head to his right staring out across the garden, soft flickering tea lights encompassed the circular space away from the dark shadows that lingered near the trees and six foot tall wooden fence.

 

Flowers weren’t really his thing, not for a lack of talent, but a lack of motivation to grow something just to snip it and set it on the dining room table. No, instead he grew thick, hip high tomato plants and ripe red and orange peppers. To the right of those a small and densely packed herb patch grew: basil, mint, lemon grass, parsley and his big borderline invasive rosemary bush.

 

“Just you and me, Kui.”

 

He admired the view of his handy work under the candle lighting briefly, before movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned his head toward the house and the half closed paper door, and stares as he inhaled slowly from his cigarette.

 

His _company’s_ shoulders hitched up twice in quick succession, yet no sound followed. He rolled his eyes skyward trying to portray his utter disdain for life and all its many, many problems.

 

“Are you just going to keep standing there?” He asked the silent observer. Flickers of light swayed back and forth on the underside of the roof above him as he lay waiting.

 

Wind pushed into his smoke as the other came and sat down by his head, their left leg off the edge of the porch and the other bent with an arm across. Silence stretched by comfortably between them.

 

He raised his cigarette again and pulled at the end watching as the cherry burned to the end almost at the filter. He held the breath for one second before exhaling and stubbing the end into the ashtray, which sat on the step beside the porch to his right.  

 

Relaxed as the smoke left him entirely, he laid back with his arms crossed behind his head. Even with his eyes closed he could _feel_ the barely noticeable hesitation of the other as their left hand raised, paused, and carded through his hair.

 

He hummed.

 

The finger’s tentative exploration gained confidence as the hand pulled carefully, trying in vain to avoid any of the numerous knots. They ran their too short nails through black strands and scratched gentle small circles onto his skull.

 

The late summer breeze blew through faster briefly, pushing past plants and grass, and bringing the thick savory scent of ...something with it. His stomach growled lowly, he hadn’t eaten since coffee this morning.

 

The hand paused.

 

He frowned, eyebrows pulled together in annoyance.

 

As was their nature the other stood and disappeared without a word. The sound of the fridge being opened was almost silent, had he not thought to strain his ears against the quiet.

 

He almost smiled.

  



	4. Condensation covered glasses and hot food on a warm night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have less than an hour to get ready for work, and I’ve been awake since 5:30. ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ
> 
> I regret nothing.   
> Thank you all for reading.

My eyes roamed over him from my spot at the stove. The sizzle of pork in the pan was the only noise in the house. His own dark eyes stared blankly out across the dimming lights in the garden. 

 

His overall expression was blank really, brows relaxed and mouth slightly parted. His arms were propped up behind his head and his legs laid flat against the porch. 

 

I turned back to the stove, shuffling the pieces around. I grabbed for the bowl of carrots, peppers, daikon and pineapple and poured them on top. 

 

I reached back to the counter and grab a mason jar of premade spicy teriyaki sauce. I rubbed my tongue against the back of my front teeth as I turned the heat onto a simmer and contemplated. 

 

I then turned the back burner to low once it started to boil and added two cups of rice. I rubbed my lips together before my tongue swept out to wet the chapped skin. 

 

I had just made my way back to the island when a groan from the porch echoed into the kitchen, followed by purposeful thumps of footsteps heading my way. I reached up into a cupboard for two long clear glasses. 

 

“Hot food on a warm night?” 

 

His voice was soft as he spoke the rhetorical question and situated himself on one of two stools in the dining room facing the L-shaped counter. 

 

I didn’t respond. He wasn’t expecting me to. 

 

It took a moment of blind mauvering inside the top shelf of the cupboard to retrieve my prize. The plastic was slightly warped and the spout on the lid had no cover. I shuffled slight to the right toward the sink and turned on the cold water. 

 

I filled the water jug and placed it on the counter slightly to his left, and pivoted on my heel back to the fridge, to the left of the stove and the pantry. 

 

I’m not sure he meant for me to hear the click of his tongue before he spoke again, “I have ice in the freezer.” I didn’t look back at him as I tipped my head slightly, but I could imagine his faintly wry expression regardless. 

 

My legs didn’t slow as I trekked all throughout his kitchen without so much as a  _ help yourself _ , I figured it was because he know why I was here and also he seemed to think that speaking about things out loud made them real. 

 

My right cheek quivered at the thought and I forced it away before reaching into the fridge and pulling out a container of strawberries and some lemons, I closed the door and then reached down for the ice in the freezer drawer. 

 

I paused momentarily on the way back to the counter to shut off the heat on the rice, and angled the cover as steam rose and water dripped onto the stovetop. 

 

His eyes locked with mine before sliding down to my arm full as I returned to the water jug on the counter. He stood slowly, purposefully, as I placed everything down on the counter. 

 

I reached to my right and grabbed the still drying cutting board and a knife, while he made his way to stand slightly behind me to my left. He bent and open one of the doors and pulled out a container of sugar, placed it on the counter and returned to his spot. 

 

I watched him from beneath my lashes, head turned just so and his chin resting on his left palm, as I peeled the stickers off the lemons and stuck them on the strawberry container. “I don’t mind sour but I don’t really enjoy sweet things.” 

 

Of course, he knew that I was aware of this. Though I didn’t mind, I knew that he spoke up to fill the silence when he didn’t want his thoughts to wander. 

 

I mindlessly cut the tops off of the strawberries and the ends of the lemons before slicing them into thin strips, setting the seeds to the side. Scooped up the strawberries and let them drop into the water, try not to splash any onto the counter. The lemon slices followed and I measured out one and three quarter cups of sugar and added it to the two quart water jug. 

 

Ideally, I mused as I added a few cups of ice to the jug and the clear cups, I would’ve melted the sugar down first.

 

I placed the cover onto the jug and set it over more to the right side of the counter out of the way and moved to stand in front of the stove. 

 

As I stirred the pork and vegetables I heard him stand and start to clear off the counter. Putting the plastic container in the trash and the ends in a compost bucket under the sink. I listened to the water start and tunes back into my meal. 

 

Satisfied with the thick glaze and the tenderness of the carrots and daikon, I shut off the burner and grabbed the bowl sitting on the unused burner to the left. I scooped out a healthy portion of rice and then a smaller portion of pork and vegetation, secured the covers. 

 

I watched him briefly from my spot in the middle of the kitchen floor, watched the subtle rise of shoulders under my scrutiny, and the muscles of his arms as he scrubbed against the blade in his hands. The glint of lights above us reflecting on its surface as he started the water again and rinsed the suds off. 

 

He set the knife in the dish strainer and I moved to walk back to my spot near the glasses and the slowly melting ice cubes. I lightly ground my teeth together trying to concentrate on something other than the past flashing  unwarranted through my mind. 

 

I felt the brush of his shoulder against mine as I passed him his bowl. A faint twitch of a smile on his lips was thank you enough and I busied myself pouring us two glasses of the most balanced sour-sweet strawberry lemonade I’d ever had. 

  
  
  
  
  



	5. My eyes will search for you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He held on for several seconds, breathing in before lightheadedness could strike, and vibrant green eyes (glistening with curiosity) came into view and locked with his own.

He was lying in bed, sheets strewn across him again, his blanket tossed onto the floor and his hands curled into fists under his left cheek. 

 

Unintelligible words and whispers left him as the night passed, to join the twinkling of several wind chimes heard through the open window. 

 

His legs pulled up and he curled into a loose ball, knees near his stomach and back bowed in, his breathing seemed to still before coming back quick and harsh. 

 

The twinkling of the wind chimes softened, a quiet steady beat, as his frame became overcome with tremors. His head shook into his pillow, wet marks left in place after each quick toss and turn. His legs shot straight, hands coming up as if to brace himself from an unseen threat. 

 

He stilled, the wind chimes suddenly silent in the too quiet of the warm summers night, his arms still remained raised and his breathing evened. 

 

Slowly, his arms lowered and his eyelids opened. 

 

Chestnut brown eyes shone brightly with unshed tears from the light of the moon coming in from the window, opposite of his torn apart bed. 

 

He rolled his head to the right, the clock on the floor read 3:55, and the rest of the room remained shrouded in darkness. 

 

A cats’ meow echoed into the room, before the sleek shine of moon soaked black fur entered in through the window. Soft paps followed as the cat jumped down and sauntered toward him. He moved his right arm out and his hand palm up. 

 

Cool fur stroked gently against his hand before trailing up his arm and coming to a stop by his chest. A paw touched down onto his chest and waited. 

 

He inhaled through his nose with purpose and held it. The cat climbed onto him and moved to sit comfortably on his sternum (circling once, twice) before lying down, and then he exhaled through his mouth. 

 

He held on for several seconds, breathing in before lightheadedness could strike, and vibrant green eyes (glistening with curiosity) came into view and locked with his own. 

 

The cat laid it’s head onto its front paws and chirped once at him. The cats ears twisted and perked and its tail swished on in what seem like a carelessly and pleasant manner. 

 

He closed his eyes and laid back more comfortably, and rubbed his hand down from the cats ears to it’s tail several times. 

 

Outside the window the wind blew lightly and the sounds of wind chimes singing softly rose into the room again.

 

\-------

 

When he opened his eyes the second time the room was still dark, the window was still open, and the cat still stationed on his chest. The cats face was covered by its tail, and a paw over its eye. 

He groaned and stretched his arms out straight above his head and tried not to jostle the soft sleeping ball of fluff. 

 

A knock sounded from the window and only then did he notice the lack of chimes in the air, he locked up and across his bed to the shadow as it perched on the windowsill. 

 

He couldn’t see an expression on the others face as they spoke, a twinkling soft sound in the quiet, “Where’d the cat come from, y’know?”

 

\-------

 

“FUCK!” His fist slammed against the shower floor.

 

The water was hot against his back, hotter than usual and felt  _ so nice _ in the dark. It burn away the imagined touch, the fingers dancing across his shoulders and down his arms, tenderly, toxic. 

 

He had tried to pretend it wasn’t coming, wasn’t threatening to break through the surface. 

 

“Why?” Rage floated to the surface as tears streaked down his face. “FUCK!!! FUckfuckfuckfuck…” 

 

His breath was ragging, in and out, water filling his mouth and not nearly enough to drown him. His screams weren’t quieted in the confines of his clenched teeth and sobs kept bursting through to steal his attempts at calm.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with me!?”

 

A hiccup rose, and he heaved after it, feeling the stomach bile burn and tear at his esophagus. He coughed and haphazardly rubbed at his mouth with his right hand, his left bracing him as he lent back to sit on his legs.

 

“WHAT the f-uck is y-y-your PROBLEM, Sasuke!? … Get a FUCKING grip!”

 

The water was still hot, but it didn’t burn his skin anymore, and he turned, into the stream letting it hit his face. 

 

His lips quivered, and he bit into his lower lip, harder and harder. The metallic tang of blood spread across his tongue and he tried to focus on it and the pain. A sting of new tears threatened to come back full force and he punched himself in the sternum.

 

“Haaah.” Heated blossomed through his chest and tingled near his arms. 

 

His mind just barely quelled, just enough to be worth it. The grip of a hand on the back on his neck, dulled of its harsh, razor sharp quality. The deceptively deep loving voice speaking grandiose nothing's. 

 

He punched again, harder. “Fa-fuck.”

 

Of hands that held onto this hips, to the pressure of another body pressed against his back.

 

And again.

 

Eyes closed and he could hear the soft smile on sinister lips, that pleaded and promised.

 

And again.

 

The feel of goosebumps raising to meet the tongue that slid down his trapezoid, the delicately light pressure on his shoulder that he mistook for teeth, before the pain started. 

 

Andagainandagainandagain.

 

He fell back on his ass and let the water rain down pleasantly cool on his chest. His hair slid into his face and he pushed it back with his left hand, to behind his ear. He trailed his hand down and rubbed at the thickening stubble and scratched at his chin briefly. 

 

He rubbed at his eyes with both hands and rubbed up against his nose. “That’s enough.”

 

He stood stiffly and palmed at the wall to save him from crashing back down, and focused on breathing evenly before he shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. 

 

“You’re never gonna change me.” He whisper to the reflection in his mirror as he reached for the towels. He threw one around his shoulders and covered his hair with it. He looked away sharply and wrapped himself in the other towel. 

 

He headed for the door turning the light off on his way out.

 

\--------------

 

The shadow stepped out from their hiding spot in the corner of the room and followed behind and up the stairs.

 

He was in his room sitting crossed legged on the floor. The towel on his head hadn’t moved an inch and his glazed eyes stared off blankly. When the shadow entered the room, making sure to be as obvious and as non threatening as possible, he didn’t even blink. 

 

They made their way over and knelt in front of him, lifting both hands --entirely visible, and started to dry his hair. When they finished they gripped the towel and pulled it off his shoulders and softly rubbed it against his face and eyes. One and then the other. 

 

When they pulled away his eyelids were drooped and deep brown, red rimmed eyes had locked onto their movements. The towel was set down and the shadows hands reached back up. Fingers combed through his hair pulling out any knots.  

 

Quietly at first and slowly gaining volume they whispered to him. “Your hair is really getting so long, would you like me to braid it?” Their fingers pulled through the strains that reached to the base of his shoulder blade as if to emphasis. 

 

His dark brown eyes closed softly, and he sighed while his shoulders seemed to lift from under some invisible weight.

 

He didn’t reply, just turned his head to the side slightly and lent back.

 

Their shoulders hitched up twice before they slid to kneel behind him, pulled his hair into a low pony in their hands, then started a simple braid down the rest. 

 

It didn’t take more than a few moments.

 

They reached into a pouch on their thigh and spoke, “Just grabbing for a hair tie, Sasuke” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this yesterday, woke up at 5:30 this morning to nightmares and decided this was a healthy coping skill. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> I'm really unsure about plot per say, and where I'm going, so thank you for joining this wild ride. :*
> 
> P.s. I listened to several songs while writing this if you're interested.
> 
> half*alive - "awake at night", and "still feel".  
> Jungle - "Heavy, California", "Cherry", and "The Heat".


	6. Ray of fucking sunshine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy February! 
> 
> Yesterday I got a second job working early mornings at Dunkin so my updates will most likely slow down, I usually write these between 4am-8/9am or 9pm-12am so... Considering that's when I'll be working or forcing my self to sleep. (le shrug)
> 
> I really like this chapter, I did some "research" while writing, (also there is an Easter egg in here from one of my favorite Miuzaki movie's character's, favorite thing. If you recognize it lemme know!)
> 
> I also changed up my writing style, a bit to test this out, so any feedback would be appreciated, growth is only stimulated through trial and error!
> 
> Have a great day! :*
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“I couldn’t make this up if I tried…”, “ _ A slap on the wrist and the rest brushed under the rug, like what the fuck? _ ”, “They’ve lied to us before, what’s to stop them-“ 

 

“Sasuke!” He nodded in greeting as green eyes practically sparked with glee, the wind blew softly through her pink hair, short and half pulled up into buns on her head. “It’s not often I’d find you here, especially this late in the afternoon.” 

 

Sakura’s steps kept pace with his own as he continued on his path through the busy market. He nodded again, as his shoulders shrugged, “I’ve been trying to force myself out of the house more often.” 

 

Surprise raised pink eyebrows slightly before a serene smile crossed her lips. Apparently she hadn’t been expecting such an honest answer. 

 

“I’m glad I didn’t buy my groceries yesterday then.” 

 

Sakura laughed softly as he peeked at her from the corner of his eye. He nodded again and slowed down to stop in front of a fish stand on the right side of the busy street. 

 

Vendors and carts lined the main road of Konaha from the early hours of the morning, merchants from all over would fill in the spaces between the resident sellers, and pedal their wears. They’d stay open all day -- well into the lamp post soaked evenings, set up for several weeks, some for months before vacating their spot and giving it up to someone else and leaving just as quickly as they’d come. 

 

He pursued his lips as he scanned the selection, the short stocky woman who ran it off to the side with a customer. She argued his offer of 200 yen a kilogram, with a scowl set heavily on her face. “It’s as fresh as the day it hatched, my husband caught it this morning,  ¥ 500 or fuck off, yee?” 

 

Sakura chuckled from his right, a hand coming up to run through her bangs and push the few loose strands up and over her head as she bent toward him slightly, “She isn’t married, though she does do all her fishing herself at night after the markets closed.” 

 

The man she was talking to didn’t seem aware of this fact and fed up with the woman, slapped some coin into her outstretched hand grabbed his fish and walked off, shaking his head in disbelief. 

 

The woman flashed her teeth at his retrenching back before turning their way with a charming smile. 

 

“Hello! What can I do for you today, Mister Uchiha and Miss Sakura?”

 

His left hand trembled, to disguise the motion he raised his hand to rub over his stubble covered chin. He felt hairs raised on the back of his neck and his heart started to beat the faintest bit faster. 

 

_ Obviously _ , this woman knew who he was. 

 

“ _Uchiha Sasuke? Yeah, I’ve heard of him, that traitorous prick just up and disappeared one night_ _and now he thinks he can waltz right back in here and everything will-_ ”

 

Despite being a hidden village in the middle of a towering maze like forest, they had a pretty decent influx of foreigners and temporary traveling caravans, but word still spread quickly and she seemed to be a permanent fixture. 

 

To distract himself from darker,  _ intrusive _ , thoughts he cleared his throat and asked about her freshest salmon.

 

He specifically kept browsing as she spoke, curious expression observing him, “It’s about  15 hundred yen a pound and these two were caught around 2 am, gut and kept on ice. They weight in about 9 kgs a piece.” He hummed something close enough to an acknowledgment while he debated his budget.

 

Sakura’s presence to his right, statuesque and thoughtful just moments ago, twirled in a sudden movement and he startled looking up and following after her with his eyes. 

 

“Oooh,” She crossed the busy street, weaving past a jogger and a group of woman standing rudely in the middle of the road chatting, to a smaller stand. It looked like it was being run by a child, no older than six or seven who had big blue eyes and a shaved head. He stood behind his stand (if it could really be called that,) of three big brown barrels and was selling candies.

 

“I’ll take a pound of your salon, Ma’am, and if you wouldn’t mind wrapping it?” He scowled at himself and reached in the pocket he had sewn into the shorts of his black jinbie. He pulled out his wallet and counted out  ¥1,600 before trading it for his wrapped up fish. 

 

“Thank you...” 

 

The woman- “Eri.” smiled brightly at him after having count her coin and bowing slightly. He nodded, “Thank you Ms. Eri.” 

 

“Thank you, Mister Uchiha, have a good rest of your day.”

 

He stiffly bent forward an inch before turning and heading to his left, continuing on his straight path from earlier. He heard Sakura come up from behind and join him in his walk, once more standing to his right. She was crunching on some candy as she came into view of his peripheral vision, and stretched out the small bag in her hand in invitation.

 

He turned his head toward her and peaked inside, before side stepping around what could only be a ronin leading his horse through the market. Wide set shoulders hidden under layers of heavy metal looking armor, which appeared battle worn and caked in dirt. 

 

He rolled his eyes and inhaled irritability, accepting a few pieces of Sakura’s purchase and slipping one past his lips. He grimaced. “Konpeito? Really?” She beamed at him seemingly unfazed and pop a couple into her mouth, “I know right!? I haven’t had these since I was a kid, it’s so nostalgic.” 

 

He almost didn’t replied when he caught sight of a foreign vegetable stand with a yellow sale sign, “Ya, wonderful.” He heard her tut once and fought the twitch of his lips against his cheeks. 

 

“Real fucking ball of sunshine you are, huh, Sasuke?”

 

He failed, and a small smile spread. 

 

“It’s fine tho’.” Sakura spoke slowly, after he had grabbed a bag and started carefully inspecting some asparagus. “Why’s that? He mumbled, unsure why he was even asking. He could see her grin out of the corner of his eye and his eyebrow quirked.

 

A smooth voice above his head answered his question, 

 

“We still love you, even though you’re a real bastard.” 


End file.
